


Who’ll Stop the Rain

by Velvet95



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: EFA Fic Challenge 2018, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 19:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14654580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velvet95/pseuds/Velvet95
Summary: Wynonna has always hated the rain...





	Who’ll Stop the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Saw the prompt and the challenge and thought nothing of it.
> 
> Then I got one of those annoying muses that keeps poking you painfully until you pay attention.
> 
> Muses are bitches.

_Long as I remember the rain been coming down._

_Clouds of myst'ry pouring confusion on the ground._

_Good men through the ages, trying to find the sun;_

_And I wonder, still I wonder, who'll stop the rain._

_\- John Fogerty_

You hate the rain.

Snow, you like. When snowballs are thrown and angels are brushed into being and you know hot chocolate with a healthy dash of peppermint schnapps is waiting to be consumed next to a roaring fire, that's bliss right there.

Rain, though. It's cold and seeps through your clothes and past the leather of your boots despite many attempts at waterproofing.

Before she left, your mother would sometimes sigh at the rain and say that God was crying at the world's sins. After she left, you sometimes wondered if she went someplace where God never cried, a world where fathers weren't brutal alcoholics, where townspeople didn't look at you with a mixture of pity and revulsion, where the very act of just trying to make it through the day took an enormous amount of will.

Where she didn't have to be reminded that her family was cursed.

The curse which put your own bullet through your father's (admittedly cowardly) heart.

The curse which took your older sister and turned her into something barely human, then took her away for good.

You're not sure you're much better than either of them. Deep in the dark pit of what's left of your soul, you sort of hope you're at least trying.

It's just you now, after all. You and your younger sister.

Waverly.

The person who shines so bright in your eyes it almost hurts to look at her. You don't deserve her, but you have her anyway because she gives you a loyalty that's so fierce it makes you breathless, and a love so big you want to cry at the beauty of it.

The curse might as well have brought the rain, for all the misery it's bringing you now, standing at the entrance to your old family homestead, knowing that death is coming.

Right now you only know one thing.

The curse will not touch Waverly. Never her. Not while you have even a whisper of breath in your lungs, and there's any bullet left on the planet to shoot through Peacemaker's long, glowing, barrel.

You sigh, then shiver as more tendrils of icy water make their way down your body. The tense sound of Doc's voice, his usual sardonic tones replaced with a tremble had scared you more than you'd ever admit out loud. Nearly delirious in the pre-dawn hour you listen to Doc's urgent message, fear and rage growing with every word.

Some human motorcycle club with more drug-addled bravado than sense had been paid by the Revenants for a mission they were more than happy to accept. They were on their way to the Homestead to drag the Earp Heir and her sister off the safety of the property so they could be dealt with once and for all. All the Revenants would be waiting eagerly for the sisters to be delivered. What happened to the women up to that point didn't much matter to the Revenants as long as they were ultimately delivered more or less alive.

They told the bikers to have fun.

Bishop, the new leader after the death of Bobo, had decided leaving the Ghost River Triangle was pointless. Absolute control of Purgatory was all he wanted. For that to happen Peacemaker had to be neutralized.

The Earps had to die.

All of this from a member of the club whose bike had had engine trouble, and who had tried to steal Dolls (of all people's) truck to rejoin his pack.

Dolls apparently got a pretty good gash to his ribs during the takedown, but Doc assures you it's wasn't serious. You smile grimly, knowing that both Doc and Dolls had different definition of serious than most people.

He'd told you he and Dolls and Nedley were on their way. That Rosie and Jeremy were coming too. To please hold on. To stay inside under cover until they got there.

But Waverly is in the house behind you. Even with that shotgun she wields with relish, you want to keep her from danger. She's borne too much being your sister, being Ward Earp's daughter, being Willa's favorite victim, being the little girl whose mother had abandoned her to her fate.

You will die before letting anyone, or any _thing_ , hurt her again.

In the distance you finally hear the rumble of many Harleys, normally a sexy sound to you. Now it fills you with dread. Bile burns low in your throat and your hand grips Peacemaker more tightly. You will your feet to start walking, to put more distance between the coming fight and the most precious person in the world behind you, will yourself to ignore God crying on you for your sins.

"Didn't your mama ever teach you to come in out of the rain?"

You turn, astonished.

Nicole stands on the porch, her uniform rumpled and her hair undone. Her kit belt is strapped on, her Glock in its holster and the AR-15 from her squad car in her hands. Waverly is beside her, her shotgun held low.

"Baby girl," you choke out. You need her to retreat. You can't bear to think about her getting hurt. "Please go back in the house, get some cover." She looks pleadingly at Nicole. "Red, I didn't even know you were here…"

"Parked behind the barn." She gives you a little glare. "Tired of all the dings my car gets when you spin your wheels in the gravel on your way to donuts."

You blink.

"And you shut it, Nonna," Waverly snaps. "You think we're just going to let you stand alone and face whatever's coming by yourself?"

Nicole's lip curls at your look of shock. "Nedley called us a few minutes ago. He knew you were stupid enough to try leaving us out of this." She flips the safety of her rifle off with a casual click. "This is a team sport, Earp."

"No," you choke, taking one staggered step forward before you round on Nicole. "You have to get her out of here, Haught! Both of you, you've got to get out of here!"

You can feel the edge of hysteria blackening the edges of your vision.

Not Waverly. Never Waverly. You can't lose your baby sister. You would lay down and die right now if it meant her safety.

The growl of the engines is getting louder and you spin to face them, but pause as you feel a warm hard against your cheek and turn to see golden brown eyes looking at you with affection.

"We do this together, Nonna," your sister tells you firmly. "Do you think I could stand losing you? " Her lip trembles slightly and her eyes are wet, but determined. "I just got you back, I'm not letting you go so easily."

Nicole steps forward and puts one comforting hand on Waverly's shoulder. She reaches out her other hand and grabs the back of your neck, giving you a little shake.

"You're not alone, Earp." She glances down the road and her face sets at the sight of the motorcycles coming into view a mile and a half down the road, then she turns back and gives you one more shake. "I'll always stand with you, you idiot. You're my best friend," she smirks. "You even like my ass."

"Hey," Waverly pretends to look offended, then chuckles and presses a kiss to your cheek. "We're in this together, Wynonna. Besides." She steps back and pumps a shell into the chamber of her shotgun with a crooked grin and a wink. "I'm a better shot than you anyway."

The weight you've been carrying slowly drops away as you watch them in wonder. Waverly and Nicole share a passionate kiss before taking defensive positions along the barn. The message is clear to you: they've got your back. You're still not used to that feeling, but you realize you love it, and to your joy you see a big black suburban come into view in the distance, moving fast. A moment later and a little red car appears behind it, slaloming along through the muck. The rest of the calvary is on their way.

One of the motorcycle gang misjudges the last turn into the driveway and wipes out with a spray of muddy gravel, taking out the man next to him.

You hear Waverly chortle derisively and you laugh in sudden delight.

You hadn't realized it until just now, but you do have real live people that support you, that you're not alone.

That you're loved.

You feel yourself grin as you swagger forward, raising your gun in defiance as the gang roars through the gate heading towards you, several of them now on foot and screaming curses as they slosh through the rain.

You see Nicole take careful aim and shoot out the tire of the lead bike and you watch with glee as the bike goes down in another spray of mud, causing the rest to skid and slide to a stop to avoid hitting it. As the bikers start pulling guns out, Nicole's rifle barks and Waverly's shotgun roars. The three closest men fall, screaming in pain and clutching legs, arms, stomachs. The rest spin about, realizing there's more than Wynonna to consider and they've got no cover. They try to fall back only to find their way blocked by three angry men pointing many guns right at them. The little red car swerves to a stop next to them and Rosita pops out with what suspiciously looks like a flame thrower.

You can't wait to hear where that came from.

"Haught," you hear Nedley roar. "Why haven't you arrested these meatheads yet?"

"On it, Sir," Nicole shouts back, and as one the men whirl to see Nicole and her rifle, her tone and posture giving every indication that she was just itching for someone to make a move. Behind her Waverly kneels, shotgun raised to her chest, two menacing barrels looking sexy in the hands of the petite bartender.

"Drop your weapons," Nicole suggests. There's a pause, then a sound like many stones tossed into a pond as a variety of weapons hit the mud. Hands raise sheepishly into the air as Doc holsters his guns and tilts his hat back rakishly.

"Well now, I do believe I've never seen a sorrier sight. How about yourself, Agent Dolls?"

You can practically feel Dolls' eye roll from thirty yards away. He moves with Nedley and Nicole to truss up their sullen prisoners. Nedley makes a call for somebody to bring a bus to pick them up.

Waverly sidles up to you and bumps you with her shoulder. "There, that wasn't so bad was it?" She cocks her head as she looks at you. "Not having to do everything yourself?"

It kills you to do it, but you find yourself shrugging in agreement. "It's hard sometimes," you mutter.

She slides her arm around you and hugs you tight. You don't have to explain what is hard, why your life has not prepared you to feel loved unconditionally, to trust and be trusted, to feel like you're actually part of a family, no matter how strange and deranged this new family of yours might be. She knows. She knows you better than anyone.

You no longer feel the cold — the warmth that spreads from you chest is more then enough to chase away the chill. You tilt your head back and feel as if the downpour is rinsing you off, that instead of God crying over your sins he's washing them away. You feel new arms hugging you and you drop your gaze to see your family around you, Nicole and Dolls, Doc and Rosita, and even Jeremy is right there wearing a painfully yellow rain slicker and his usual earnest expression. Nedley is behind him looking at you with a sour tilt to his mouth, but you realize it doesn't reach his eyes which are warm and caring.

And Waverly, her long braid coming undone and frizzing in the wet, is looking up at you with a soft, contented look. Like somehow you actually are the big sister you always wished you could be.

You feel reborn.

You freakin' _love_ the rain.


End file.
